


Missing

by Aj (aj2245)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-10
Updated: 2003-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj2245/pseuds/Aj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't miss it until it's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes. Okay, here's a weird thing that I'm reposting. Unbelievably, I managed to be the FIRST PERSON to write fic starring Kara Thrace on the internet. Yeah, I don't know how that happened either. Anywho, enjoy this look into 23-year-old-me's thing! Don't believe me? [Here's proof.](http://bsg2003fics.livejournal.com/1001.html)

Of all the things in the universe, she'd never really expected this.

It was stupid. Really, really stupid, and made very little sense.

Sighing slightly, Kara poked through her breakfast cereal (fresh off the grain frigate as of that morning) and tried to figure out why this was bugging her so much.

Yeah, the Cylons had wiped out the entire twelve colonies, leaving nothing but their little rag-tag convoy. A stunning little microcosm of a civilization that had been over four billion strong. And no matter how she thought about it, or tried to phrase that reality, it still came out sounding too trite or small to suit the reality.

It was too big. Too raw.

They were all struggling to survive. Running like hell from an enemy that had resoundingly kicked their collective ass with little in the way of resources, no friends, and a rather precariously moderated sense of hope.

And here she was being mopey about this.

Sigh.

Kara swished her spoon some more and glared at her bowl. The oatmeal wasn't as heinous as the emergency rations, but it was frecking close. Plus, in a round about way, it was solely responsible for her mood.

She hated oatmeal. Always had. The only way her mother had been able to force it down her throat when she was small was to douse it in dehydrated bananas and brown sugar. Even then, she'd pick out the fruit and feed the rest to the cat. Or try anyway.

Oh, great. Now she felt even better.

It's not that she really missed many of the things that had been lost. Sure, sometimes she really really really wanted a good beer, or a trip outside to sit in the sun. But living this life, being here on the Galactica was the life she'd trained for. One she'd chosen, and one that she'd been living before the Cylon's first bomb had dropped.

For the most part, she was fine. More so than anyone wanted to really believe. She hadn't lost anyone, not really. A few widespread friends, a distant cousin. Her instructors at the academy. But no one really... close. She had most of her squad and her boys. Maybe it was a little more sparse of a life than she'd planned, but it was a life and she was frecking determined to remain positive on that score. Even if Tigh was still a massive pain in her backside.

Take the bad with the good right?

Right.

So why was this bugging her so much?

She poked the cereal again. She missed strawberries. Big, bright red, juicy fruit that tanged up your mouth and dripped all over you if they were grown right. Colorful, natural food that wasn't cooked or packaged or rehydrated. With seeds that got stuck in your teeth and stems that you had gnaw all around to get the last of the meat.

Strawberries. Simplest damn food in the world - okay, worlds - and then they were gone. Poof. Just like the academy and the tobacco groves and the refineries. And wow, was she going to be hurting for the tobacco groves in a few months.

It wasn't like she was complaining. The granary was somehow managing to put out enough food supplies to last. And what wasn't immediately used was being stored for leaner, less certain times. If that was possible. It wasn't like there wasn't fruit either. Oranges by the ton were offered to all personnel, civilian and military. The doctors going on about how it was the perfect fruit or some such.

But. Oranges weren't strawberries. The convoy wasn't the colonies. But sometimes, you just had to make due.

Kara chewed another mouthful of oatmeal and made a face. Still. It wouldn't be forever, right? Maybe Earth would have strawberries. She snickered and scraped the last of the food out of her bowl before dropping her spoon in. It was a nice dream. Possibly not even a dream, if Adama's determination wasn't just desperate bravado.

Well, she'd just have to see.


End file.
